Since my last real post, major events have shaken me and I just needed some time to sort through my life, my thoughts, my anxieties. And to think about my options and whatever future I may have here in Korea.
What started out as a rumor, as an uncomfortable piece of gossip spread around by the mouths of native english teachers (hereafter NETs), turned out to be true: the gov't is pulling all high school NETs at the end of their contract term.
I am a high school NET. My contract ends in february. I will not be allowed to teach at my school next year. Neither will I be replaced by another NET.
It was, and remains, such a blow. Like I was sucker punched in the gut.
And that is funny because all this year I had merely toyed with the idea of staying another year in Korea--stupidly thinking that if I didn't really commit to anything, then I wouldn't be disappointed.
How naive.
I've been weighing my options and trying to stay positive, but there's just so much up in the air right now and I honestly don't know where I'll end up in just a few months time. It's worrisome and stressful.
If I decide to renew my contract with the gov't, I will be transferred to either middle school or elementary school (no). Another option is to ditch the public school system and the gov't program, and find work in the private sector through an academy (no). My best option, and the one I hope comes true, is that I find a position at a university.
The question becomes, then, if I don't get a job at a university, will I stay in Korea or go back home? And if I return home, what job awaits me there? I, after all, need to keep working to pay my school loans off. This is not the time for me to dally.
As stressful as that alone is, some of the teachers have actually gone as far as to tell students that I'm leaving. I'm really upset by this because I feel like that information should have come from me personally. I would have liked the opportunity to tell my students that information at the time I saw fit, in the manner I saw fit. As it stands, I've tried to make the students who know promise not to tell anymore students--pinky swears are all but binding here in Korea.
But more that just that, when an occasional student does come up to me to bring up my impending departure, it's just really hard for me to talk about. I don't want to go. I really like my school, and my kids are amazing, and it's just so unfair that I'm being forced to give them up. I know that I was really blessed with my situation this year, and I know that I took it for granted.
And, since I am a sentimental person at heart, the littlest things will make me emotional. My students will do something so mundane, so potentially annoying, but in that moment it will strike me as something fleetingly beautiful. A moment, a memory of something that I will have so few opportunities to see again.
Sitting here in my apartment, looking at all of the stuff--the sheer amount of stuff--that I've accumulated in the last few months, and the home that I've made for myself in my little apartment...and I know that sooner rather than later, I'll have to pack it all up. For good or temporarily, I don't know yet. I don't want to buy anymore clothing or things for my apartment, because all I can think about is the potential hassle it will be to deal with in the near future.
I mean, I even have a giant bag of rice I have to somehow manage to eat by myself in something like 12 weeks...when I thought I'd have more than that.
And even riding the subway, I live off of line 5 (the purple line) and I know my route/stops so well. If I move somewhere else, I'll have to find all new routes and get accustomed to a whole new commute.
It's the little things, and big things, and everything else, that just makes this whole situation suck. Majorly.
So for now, I'm applying to jobs here, and I need to get the ball moving on jobs back at home--just in case--and hoping for the best.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Heart, Mind, & Seoul: Finding My Way Back to Teaching
I've been crazy busy this past week, I don't even know I've survived. It all started last friday, when I had an all-day training seminar that sort of lit a fire under my ass. Lately, I had been feeling all sorts of comfortable when it came to teaching at my school. Some things suck, but some things were good, I coped and I got through it. I wasn't having the best classes, but I was also doing the best with what I had. I was dealing.
But the seminar reminded me that despite what seems like insurmountable obstacles in my way, as a teacher, I owe it to my kids to try and reach them. When I first got to Korea, I was hell bent on being able to effectively teach these kids english. I was full of so many ideas, was constantly trying out new things in the classroom, constantly creating. And then either out of ineffectiveness, hopelessness, or burn out, I stopped trying so hard.
On the one hand, it was good for me personally, because I enabled me to have more cognitive energy to do other things (e.g. learn korean, be a homewrecker), but my classes were uninspired and tedious.
So with a refreshed perspective, I started up this week with a ton of energy that I put into my lesson plans and classes. And I think it was one of my best weeks teaching ever. I felt really happy with the results, and I'm hoping this is a new start for both me and my students.
I am, however, so exhausted I can't see straight. Twice this week I got into the office at 6:45 am. By wednesday, I came home and just crashed at 8pm, I was so tired. I had dishes piled up in my sink, wet clothing that needed to be dried, and a whole bunch of trash that needed to be taken out. I also have no food at all in my apartment, but I am feeling good about how exhausted I am.
I will leave you with this: I had my students write a short essay on whether they preferred to only do what they are good at, or doing new things. I bawled like a baby reading their responses, this one in particular:
I feel so grateful to know these amazing kids, and so humbled to be a part of their lives. They are so fascinating and endlessly interesting, and so full of youth and the hope of their future lives. It's beyond wonderful to witness.
But the seminar reminded me that despite what seems like insurmountable obstacles in my way, as a teacher, I owe it to my kids to try and reach them. When I first got to Korea, I was hell bent on being able to effectively teach these kids english. I was full of so many ideas, was constantly trying out new things in the classroom, constantly creating. And then either out of ineffectiveness, hopelessness, or burn out, I stopped trying so hard.
On the one hand, it was good for me personally, because I enabled me to have more cognitive energy to do other things (e.g. learn korean, be a homewrecker), but my classes were uninspired and tedious.
So with a refreshed perspective, I started up this week with a ton of energy that I put into my lesson plans and classes. And I think it was one of my best weeks teaching ever. I felt really happy with the results, and I'm hoping this is a new start for both me and my students.
I am, however, so exhausted I can't see straight. Twice this week I got into the office at 6:45 am. By wednesday, I came home and just crashed at 8pm, I was so tired. I had dishes piled up in my sink, wet clothing that needed to be dried, and a whole bunch of trash that needed to be taken out. I also have no food at all in my apartment, but I am feeling good about how exhausted I am.
I will leave you with this: I had my students write a short essay on whether they preferred to only do what they are good at, or doing new things. I bawled like a baby reading their responses, this one in particular:
I feel so grateful to know these amazing kids, and so humbled to be a part of their lives. They are so fascinating and endlessly interesting, and so full of youth and the hope of their future lives. It's beyond wonderful to witness.
Monday, October 10, 2011
My Korean Apartment II
I pretty much did nothing but sleep today. It's late now and I just cleaned and I'm bored but super awake. So here's how my apartment is looking these days. A bit more clutter than my first post about my apartment, but not by much I think.
I tried to have a green/blue theme in my apartment, but it doesn't always work out that way. My 15 pyeong little home. I was thinking of doing more, but with 5 months left in my contract, I'm not sure if I should.
p.s. "moves like jagger" is my jam atm :)
I tried to have a green/blue theme in my apartment, but it doesn't always work out that way. My 15 pyeong little home. I was thinking of doing more, but with 5 months left in my contract, I'm not sure if I should.p.s. "moves like jagger" is my jam atm :)
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Cuppa Joe
I have mentioned previously that Seoul has a huge coffee shop culture. There are coffeeshops everywhere, and more independent ones than huge chains. In Seoul, you can't go far without stumbling into one of these gems. In my neighborhood alone (not even a nice neighborhood mind you) 4 coffeeshops opened up in roughly 6 months. All on the same main drag, and I'm not even counting the shops that were there before I moved in.
That being said, the coffee shop culture is different than that of the States.
For instance, many people prefer to drink their coffees and espressos in house. When you go to a coffee shop, you will usually stay there and meet with friends/study. In America, since many of us drive cars, it's really convenient to just get our coffees to go, or go through the drive-thrus, and show up to work with a piping hot cup or something latted.
Going along with that, it's actually not that common (at least around my area) to have a coffee shop open in the early morning. This was probably the most surprising thing to me, as a former barista, because I remember having to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to make my 5:15 starting time. This actually didn't occur to me until one morning when I really wanted some espresso, only to find that none of the coffee shops in my area (including the 4 that had opened up since I moved into the block) were open. Most coffee shops open around 9 or 10am (8am if you are lucky). So actually, rolling into work with a fresh espresso isn't really an option. I'm not quite sure why coffee shops aren't opened earlier, as this just makes sense to me that people would want espresso in the morning.
BUT, this brings me to my next point. Many of the smaller coffee shops don't actually sell coffee. They have a wide variety of lattes/cinos/smothies but quite often, when I find myself looking for an iced coffee or a drip coffee, that option is noticeably absent from the menu.
It may have to do with the fact that many people don't actually drink coffee coffee. In korea instant coffee is really popular but it's a whole different thing entirely to have a coffee machine in a break room. If an individual wants to have coffee at work, but wants to bypass the instant stuff, they use one of these:
And this set up can often be found in coffee shops that offer coffee as a drink selection.
Also, the drink of choice here seems to be an americano. It's often the cheapest thing on the menu, and theres even a song about it, so it seems to me that coffee/iced coffee would do just as well in Korea.
Speaking of americanos, Koreans (or at least Koreans here in Seoul) will drink americanos black. When I am craving an iced coffee, but there's none to be had, I will order an iced americano. But try to get just the tiniest bit of milk in it --no, I don't want a latte, thank you--and its the most absurd thing ever to a barista. If it's too much trouble, I skip the milk and drink it sugary and black.
If you dont want to bother with the filtered coffee, you can either partake in instant coffee. It is insane popular here. The prepackaged sticks come with instant coffee, creamer, and an intense amount of sugar. Oh, and no need for a spoon to stir your hot water and coffee together, just use the packaging!
Or, if you want something ready to go, there's always the canned coffee. These you can buy in any convenience store in the cold drink section, but also in these little "fridges" but instead of being cold, they are hot. Perfect hand warmers for cold days!
The last thing I want to touch upon is that with rare exceptions (and in this case, Starbucks is a notable exception) you can't really specify your milk choice in most coffee shops. Usually everything is served with whole milk, and if you ask for soy or non-fat, most likely the shop wont carry it. It can be slightly frustrating when I want something hot, a bit more substantial than tea, but can't deal with all that whole milk -____-.
Korean coffee, coffee shops, and coffee culture is a thing of its own, and something that I hadn't actually thought about or anticipated when I first got here. Mostly because you think that coffee is a pretty common sort of thing, nothing really special about it, but the more I think about it the more I think that what cultures tend to do with something as basic as a cuppa joe, speaks volumes about the society at large.
That being said, the coffee shop culture is different than that of the States.
For instance, many people prefer to drink their coffees and espressos in house. When you go to a coffee shop, you will usually stay there and meet with friends/study. In America, since many of us drive cars, it's really convenient to just get our coffees to go, or go through the drive-thrus, and show up to work with a piping hot cup or something latted.
Going along with that, it's actually not that common (at least around my area) to have a coffee shop open in the early morning. This was probably the most surprising thing to me, as a former barista, because I remember having to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to make my 5:15 starting time. This actually didn't occur to me until one morning when I really wanted some espresso, only to find that none of the coffee shops in my area (including the 4 that had opened up since I moved into the block) were open. Most coffee shops open around 9 or 10am (8am if you are lucky). So actually, rolling into work with a fresh espresso isn't really an option. I'm not quite sure why coffee shops aren't opened earlier, as this just makes sense to me that people would want espresso in the morning.
BUT, this brings me to my next point. Many of the smaller coffee shops don't actually sell coffee. They have a wide variety of lattes/cinos/smothies but quite often, when I find myself looking for an iced coffee or a drip coffee, that option is noticeably absent from the menu.
It may have to do with the fact that many people don't actually drink coffee coffee. In korea instant coffee is really popular but it's a whole different thing entirely to have a coffee machine in a break room. If an individual wants to have coffee at work, but wants to bypass the instant stuff, they use one of these:
And this set up can often be found in coffee shops that offer coffee as a drink selection.
Also, the drink of choice here seems to be an americano. It's often the cheapest thing on the menu, and theres even a song about it, so it seems to me that coffee/iced coffee would do just as well in Korea.
Speaking of americanos, Koreans (or at least Koreans here in Seoul) will drink americanos black. When I am craving an iced coffee, but there's none to be had, I will order an iced americano. But try to get just the tiniest bit of milk in it --no, I don't want a latte, thank you--and its the most absurd thing ever to a barista. If it's too much trouble, I skip the milk and drink it sugary and black.
If you dont want to bother with the filtered coffee, you can either partake in instant coffee. It is insane popular here. The prepackaged sticks come with instant coffee, creamer, and an intense amount of sugar. Oh, and no need for a spoon to stir your hot water and coffee together, just use the packaging!
Or, if you want something ready to go, there's always the canned coffee. These you can buy in any convenience store in the cold drink section, but also in these little "fridges" but instead of being cold, they are hot. Perfect hand warmers for cold days!
The last thing I want to touch upon is that with rare exceptions (and in this case, Starbucks is a notable exception) you can't really specify your milk choice in most coffee shops. Usually everything is served with whole milk, and if you ask for soy or non-fat, most likely the shop wont carry it. It can be slightly frustrating when I want something hot, a bit more substantial than tea, but can't deal with all that whole milk -____-.
Korean coffee, coffee shops, and coffee culture is a thing of its own, and something that I hadn't actually thought about or anticipated when I first got here. Mostly because you think that coffee is a pretty common sort of thing, nothing really special about it, but the more I think about it the more I think that what cultures tend to do with something as basic as a cuppa joe, speaks volumes about the society at large.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Please stop pushing me
There is very little about Korea that I find annoying. I try, as best as I can, to respect the culture differences between my home country and this place where I am living.
But after 7 months, I can safely say that cultural difference or not, I have to say this.
In Korea, there is a high respect for those older than you. This deference towards elders is everywhere--in the language, in the seating arrangements in subways/buses--and while this deference doesn't bother me at all (it actually makes me uncomfortable when it's not followed, since filipino people have a similar respect towards elders), what does get to me is a kind of reverse agism.
I will willing defer to elders, but that doesn't mean you get to treat me as less of a person. That just because I am younger than you doesn't mean you can treat me as if I don't exist. Please stop pushing me when there's so much room. Please stop cutting in front of me.
[line cutting!! omg this is so bad in korea! It goes against everything I've ever been taught in kindergarten and I can't help but look down upon those who cut in line. Totally judging you]
I exist as a person. I am clearly STANDING RIGHT HERE. why why why must you make me feel as if my person registers so far beneath you? The worst offenders are the ahjummas. Seriously annoying at times.
/end rant
But after 7 months, I can safely say that cultural difference or not, I have to say this.
In Korea, there is a high respect for those older than you. This deference towards elders is everywhere--in the language, in the seating arrangements in subways/buses--and while this deference doesn't bother me at all (it actually makes me uncomfortable when it's not followed, since filipino people have a similar respect towards elders), what does get to me is a kind of reverse agism.
I will willing defer to elders, but that doesn't mean you get to treat me as less of a person. That just because I am younger than you doesn't mean you can treat me as if I don't exist. Please stop pushing me when there's so much room. Please stop cutting in front of me.
[line cutting!! omg this is so bad in korea! It goes against everything I've ever been taught in kindergarten and I can't help but look down upon those who cut in line. Totally judging you]
I exist as a person. I am clearly STANDING RIGHT HERE. why why why must you make me feel as if my person registers so far beneath you? The worst offenders are the ahjummas. Seriously annoying at times.
/end rant
Monday, October 3, 2011
아싸!!
A quick update on my Korean learning.
But first, a fun fact: Korean is one of the most difficult languages for English speakers to learn.
Keeping this in mind has helped me immensely whenever I've felt frustrated, disgruntled, disappointed, and saddened by my abysmal Korean skill.
After that disaster with my language partner, I was sort of self-studying but not really getting anywhere, and certainly not practicing the things I was learning so I got myself a new language partner/mr. ideal. But I really missed taking classes, or going to school, or learning. Or all of it.
I find myself sometimes wishing I could go back to school. Not in the pursuit or anything else except the things which I find interesting and beautiful. It is such a luxury to be able to go to school. To spend your days steeped in the exercise of your mind.
Part of my frustration with learning Korean is that I just can't seem to have the disciplined structure I want to really buckle down and learn it. I want class time, I want hours of homework, I want a safe environment to practice, I want constructive feedback. At most, I can give over a few hours every other day to brushing up vocabulary and grammar. I can't help but long for the time when I would sit in coffee shops all day long and actually feel like I'm learning something.
So I decided to start up korean classes again. I've switched schools--not for any other reason that YBM (my former school) was not offering my level, and this new school is free!--to a once a week course held in downtown. The classes are free for foreigners, and you have to take a placement exam in order to take a class.
When I registered, I wrote down that I had taken a few months of class at YBM. I had heard from friends that the test was something like 20ish questions of beginner level, multiple choice. I didn't really study for the exam as much as I just skimmed some grammar points a few hours before the test. I entered the exam room, and they sat me down at the far end of the room and passed me an exam.
Holy crap was the test hard. The thought occurred to me that the test was going to be so unfair to those who were true beginners, but I didn't spare too much thought because my heart was racing in a sheer panic over just how difficult the test was. At a certain point, right after I had to write in an answer, I gave up trying to read the test and just do what I always do on a MC test, make a pattern with my answer sheet.
Oh, I haven't used a "1" in a while, so I think question 19 I'll fill in "1"...
That kind of thing.
Our tests were graded on the spot, and my heart fell when I saw that out of 20 questions, I got exactly 3 right. I was getting ready to crawl into a whole and die of shame.
I was with a friend, and when we compared answer sheets, I realized what had happened. Apparently I was placed in the group that was given a more difficult exam. My friend's exam was really easy! I was appalled & shocked. But I was also relieved, because that I meant I wasn't such a disgrace after all.
But afterwards, they made me do a speaking test. Excuse me? A speaking test? I hadn't anticipated this. I hadn't prepared anything. If I had to rank myself on the four skills, it would be like this: listening, writing, reading, speaking.
I was petrified. But in I went. And it was laughable at best. But somehow, they placed me in beginners level 5, the highest level for beginners. Purely on my speaking ability. This didn't make sense to me. That speaking test was probably the longest korean conversation I've ever had and I know for a fact that I made about a billion mistakes.
On the one hand, I was really happy to have gotten in so high, and especially when my proctor said I had natural Korean expressions, but I'm dreading the class. Beginner 5. I think the level is too high for me, but I'm going to go the first class and see how it is.
I'm no where near the level I'd like to be, because I think it'd be really awesome to be conversation in Korean, but it's a step :)
But first, a fun fact: Korean is one of the most difficult languages for English speakers to learn.
Keeping this in mind has helped me immensely whenever I've felt frustrated, disgruntled, disappointed, and saddened by my abysmal Korean skill.
After that disaster with my language partner, I was sort of self-studying but not really getting anywhere, and certainly not practicing the things I was learning so I got myself a new language partner/mr. ideal. But I really missed taking classes, or going to school, or learning. Or all of it.
I find myself sometimes wishing I could go back to school. Not in the pursuit or anything else except the things which I find interesting and beautiful. It is such a luxury to be able to go to school. To spend your days steeped in the exercise of your mind.
Part of my frustration with learning Korean is that I just can't seem to have the disciplined structure I want to really buckle down and learn it. I want class time, I want hours of homework, I want a safe environment to practice, I want constructive feedback. At most, I can give over a few hours every other day to brushing up vocabulary and grammar. I can't help but long for the time when I would sit in coffee shops all day long and actually feel like I'm learning something.
So I decided to start up korean classes again. I've switched schools--not for any other reason that YBM (my former school) was not offering my level, and this new school is free!--to a once a week course held in downtown. The classes are free for foreigners, and you have to take a placement exam in order to take a class.
When I registered, I wrote down that I had taken a few months of class at YBM. I had heard from friends that the test was something like 20ish questions of beginner level, multiple choice. I didn't really study for the exam as much as I just skimmed some grammar points a few hours before the test. I entered the exam room, and they sat me down at the far end of the room and passed me an exam.
Holy crap was the test hard. The thought occurred to me that the test was going to be so unfair to those who were true beginners, but I didn't spare too much thought because my heart was racing in a sheer panic over just how difficult the test was. At a certain point, right after I had to write in an answer, I gave up trying to read the test and just do what I always do on a MC test, make a pattern with my answer sheet.
Oh, I haven't used a "1" in a while, so I think question 19 I'll fill in "1"...
That kind of thing.
Our tests were graded on the spot, and my heart fell when I saw that out of 20 questions, I got exactly 3 right. I was getting ready to crawl into a whole and die of shame.
I was with a friend, and when we compared answer sheets, I realized what had happened. Apparently I was placed in the group that was given a more difficult exam. My friend's exam was really easy! I was appalled & shocked. But I was also relieved, because that I meant I wasn't such a disgrace after all.
But afterwards, they made me do a speaking test. Excuse me? A speaking test? I hadn't anticipated this. I hadn't prepared anything. If I had to rank myself on the four skills, it would be like this: listening, writing, reading, speaking.
I was petrified. But in I went. And it was laughable at best. But somehow, they placed me in beginners level 5, the highest level for beginners. Purely on my speaking ability. This didn't make sense to me. That speaking test was probably the longest korean conversation I've ever had and I know for a fact that I made about a billion mistakes.
On the one hand, I was really happy to have gotten in so high, and especially when my proctor said I had natural Korean expressions, but I'm dreading the class. Beginner 5. I think the level is too high for me, but I'm going to go the first class and see how it is.
I'm no where near the level I'd like to be, because I think it'd be really awesome to be conversation in Korean, but it's a step :)
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Being Korean in Japan: Kyoto
They were so pretty that I creeped and took a picture ^__^This is the second part of my Japan travels. Get to the first, here.
(picture heavy post)
I would have to say that the best part of the trip was going to Kyoto, for me. Don’t get me wrong, Tokyo is such an amazing, bustling city, that has so much going on all the time, is vastly interesting, immensely exciting, and perpetually new.
But more and more I am understand how much of a non-city girl I am. I hesitate to call myself a country girl, but there’s an unsquashable desire in me to be among open spaces, clear skies, fresh air, greenery and bluery.
And when I think about Japan, what excited me about Japan was perhaps not Shibuya Crossing as much as Gion. Harajuku as the Miyajima Torii. Compound that with my tendency to love all old, traditional, historical things… and it was easy for me to love Kyoto.
first up: Fushimi Inari Shrine
I bought a yukata after the woman pulled and tucked me into one. so pretty!
going to see the golden palace ^^
By the end of the trip, I kind of felt like Seoul was Japan’s kid brother, trying to be like their more mature older sibling, but never quite being as put together as Japan… but honestly, by the time those 5 days were over, and I crossed back to Korea, the thought crossed my head that it was good to be home.
Which leads me to another topic entirely. This trip was the first time ever that I had refered to Seoul as home. When I was stopped at customs in Japan (coming back to Korea) and there was an issue with my VISA, all the airport people were asking me why I was going to Korea, and what I would do there. I kept having to say, I’m going home. They would ask me, where is home? And I would say, Seoul. I live there.
After all of the panic (I was seriously worried I wouldn’t be allowed back into Korea when I had to teach class the next day), everything worked out and I had one of the most beautiful flight experiences of me life.
I was seated at the window, and my flight being late on a clear night, left me with a breathtaking view. I saw Japan with all its bright lights, I saw the clouds being sliced through the plane wings, I saw the brightest moon I had witnessed in a while, and I saw layers and layers and layers of city, clouds, and still night. Not wanting to forget it, I tried to take a picture of the perfection, but all manmade contraptions couldn’t capture the beauty before me, sadly.
thanks Japan!
Japan was an amazing experience, but nowhere complete. There’s so much I want to see and experience in Japan, that it merits another trip somewhere in the future.
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